


The Mistress and her Butler

by isobe



Category: Princess Maker 4
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:13:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23435989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isobe/pseuds/isobe
Summary: Does PM4 even have a fandom? I know it doesn't have an English version but there seems to be no fanfiction for PM4 at all, though there are barely any for the other generations either. I have been quite obsessed with this franchise as of late, so I decided to have a go at writing Cube x Patricia, though it will probably turn dark towards the end. PM4's Cube is magnificent, but the other versions of Cube are simply too cute!!! So for this fic, you can just imagine him how you like really, but the main storyline will still be based on PM4. I don't know how often I'll be able to update as I am a student, but I will try my best. My writing style is still very amateur so I am always welcome for comments (if there will be any at all!) and... making friends - hardly anyone I know has even heard of Princess Maker! It's quite a retro game, huh. This note ended up being really long so I'll finish it here. Enjoy~
Relationships: Patricia/Cube
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	1. 1446_February

**Author's Note:**

> Does PM4 even have a fandom? I know it doesn't have an English version but there seems to be no fanfiction for PM4 at all, though there are barely any for the other generations either. I have been quite obsessed with this franchise as of late, so I decided to have a go at writing Cube x Patricia, though it will probably turn dark towards the end. PM4's Cube is magnificent, but the other versions of Cube are simply too cute!!! So for this fic, you can just imagine him how you like really, but the main storyline will still be based on PM4. I don't know how often I'll be able to update as I am a student, but I will try my best. My writing style is still very amateur so I am always welcome for comments (if there will be any at all!) and... making friends - hardly anyone I know has even heard of Princess Maker! It's quite a retro game, huh. This note ended up being really long so I'll finish it here. Enjoy~

To Patricia, Cube was a loyal butler who had been in her life ever since she could remember. He must not be much older than herself, yet could manage the household with reliable competence: preparing meals, cleaning the stables, tidying the drawing room, shopping for groceries... it all seemed far too tiresome for one to do alone. Yet he always wore a kind smile on his face, as if all the responsibilities in the kingdom could not weigh him down. The first time Patricia spent a week at home helping out with household chores — she was sixteen — a heartfelt feeling of admiration surged within her as she watched him carry out his domestic duties, lecturing her on certain details. Although the subject at hand was merely changing water in the flower vases, the undeniable aura of wisdom made the trivial talk more intriguing that it should have been.

"Hey Cube," she said while walking with him to the local market. "How old are you?"

"Pardon?" he turned to look at her. "Why does ojou-sama ask?"

"Sometimes when you talk, you seem so very mature. But you don't look that much older than I, unless I am mistaken."

Cube laughed lightly. Patricia liked his voice because it was sandy and kind.

"You mustn't ask a young man like me my age!" he jested. Then he put a gloved hand to his chin, which he always did when he was thinking. "No, I am joking. I am as old as you think I am, ojou-sama."

The young mistress pouted in childish defeat. Pretending to be annoyed, she turned her head away and gradually moved apart with Cube; even so, curiosity to the question posed lingered in her mind. She had always heard the same old story that Papa took the boy in as a street urchin, and that she should be grateful for her upbringing compared to other less fortunate children. It seemed fit as the master, returning from war, required a butler anyway. Patricia wondered how Cube felt to be employed by one of the sovereign’s most honourable, albeit retired, warriors.

She stole a glance at the butler to see if he was still musing on the subject. He seemed not to be, nor paying apt attention to her immature antics. From this angle, the girl could admire him for a brevity without the concern of staring too blatantly — to admire his pleasantly pretty face and smooth dark skin that was uncommon for inhabitants of the kingdom. Even Christina had called him, by her own words, “rather dashing” for a servant, and Christina didn’t give a toss for all the handsome young nobles trying to court her.

Two lively, laughing children ran past Patricia, almost knocking the basket out of her hand. Their carefree and boisterous nature tugged a string of familiar nostalgia in her heart. It reminded her of a reminiscence that partially involved Cube, the time she was bullied by a group of boys from the neighbourhood, four years prior.

Her young self was on her way back from magical arts class, when she became surrounded by a circle of rowdy boys, clearly with unkind intentions. Patricia hated unkindness. They first demanded for her to play with them, and when she refused, they taunted that the girl’s bad temperament was the reason that she did not have a mother. It was a standard case of domineering bullying from some ill-bred children, so the happening itself did not unsettle Patricia too much.

What really upset her, however, was that she saw Cube and Papa hiding in a nearby alleyway, perhaps watching her with curiosity. The fact that she knew this remained a secret still. Although her younger self was on the verge of crying, they did nothing to help. She sincerely hoped that she just could not see their worried faces, or the kind and reliant Cube holding himself back from lashing out on the boys, behind her blurry tears.

At the time, she decided that they had wanted to see how far she could fend herself, and so shouted furiously at the perpetrators to leave her alone or she would attack them with dangerous magic. Of course, back then, she was too young to know any black magic at all, but used it as threat nonetheless. Her juvenile self wanted desperately to prove to Papa and Cube that she wasn’t just a weak little girl that always sought their protection. Recalling this event again, Patricia wasn’t sure about the true reason behind the pitiful negligence. Spitefully, the boys jeered some more, then left soon after miscellaneous remarks of boredom and misogyny.

That day, Patricia wept and whimpered as she walked home, knowing that she would return to an empty house, where the ones who should be waiting for her were hiding somewhere in the alleyway.


	2. 1446_March

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way, I do use "ojou-sama" when Cube refers to Patricia. I don't know, "missus" and "mistress" just didn't sound right to me. I'm too accustomed to the PM4 audio, I guess. Also, I'm worried about getting the dates wrong, so let's just hope our daughter is really supposed to be 16 in early 1446!

Patricia stared out of the window, though she could not see too clearly past the rain fastened on the panes. The street was empty and the wet cobblestones glistened under the lamplight. This week, Papa had allowed her to rest at home to recuperate from stress, which was just as well since the weather was unpleasantly disagreeable.

Cube sat at a desk away from the window, organising the weekly financial account of the household. On days like this, Patricia became easily bored. She would loiter around the house while attempting to start conversations with Cube despite knowing that he had work to do. He must be somewhat annoyed at her persistence interruptions, yet he never showed offense in the slightest, always answering her silly questions in the kindest manner. Papa only gave her a lecture once a month, and was too sullen otherwise to be a conversation partner.

The painting.

A long forgotten memory suddenly jolted in Patricia’s mind as she traced the raindrops with her finger against the glass. Perhaps both the melancholic weather and numbing boredom coincidentally reflected a familiar sensation of recollection. The girl had, on a rainy day four years ago, found a painting of a beautiful woman in the attic.

There was no hesitation present when she threw off the dusty cloth to reveal the artwork, for her childish curiosity was unreasonable, and demanded knowledge of everything that she came across. The fair woman was ever so bewitching, with flawless skin and big, charming eyes. She had immediately ran to ask Papa who she was, to which, after a long pause, he replied, “Go and ask Cube.”

His eyes flickered between Patricia’s face and the painting. Disappointed by this answer, the girl was again reminded of the confound feeling of betrayal, that her father and her butler both appeared to know something she does not, and was hiding it from her.

“Cube, who is in the painting?”

What happened next left quite an impression on her young mind: Cube averted his eyes nervously. She interpreted it as treachery; to the young mistress, the mild-mannered servant was her most loyal companion, and any action that opposed her immaturity was utterly despairing. He did answer her question somehow, however, but no matter how hard Patricia tried, she could not recall what he had said. Maybe it was an indifferent mumble that diminished against her overwhelming feeling of confusion.

She looked at Cube, who was concentrating on his work. Staring at his side profile, she could not imagine the kind butler to withhold any information from her for hostile reasons, but the gloomy intuition of doom lingered odiously. Doom was the right word. Her eyelids felt heavy. Patricia wanted to know the truth behind a memory that had nearly slipped away from her consciousness.

“Cube,” she said.

“Yes, ojou-sama?” he responded almost straight away.

Patricia opened her mouth, then fell silent. Turning away, she focused her eyes on the rain outside again, for she did not know where to begin, nor how to trouble Cube’s tender, smiling face.


	3. 1446_April

The Dark Town was not a place visited frequently by those of virtue and etiquette. Surrounded by a ominous forest, it was a shady haven at the edge of the kingdom walls that hosted criminals of all kinds. The Crown had long given up on trying to eradicate the deplorable area, but rather turned a blind eye as it was the unspoken source of all kinds of goods that drove the economy; the black market at the heart of it was especially infamous.

Patricia did not like to go to the Dark Town because it frightened her. Nevertheless, she found herself exploring the region at least once every other month when Papa allowed her to go out and about. She did not know why she always felt such an absolute need to go, as if there was no other way around the business: it was inevitable. The feeling was somewhat comparable to what they preached at church, God’s will, but Patricia thought that it must be the Devil’s will for an innocent maiden to visit the disreputable locale so often. At this point she was so accustomed to visiting, that the old man at the entrance did not demand for her to pay a bypass fee anymore.

After a long, weary day, Patricia returned to the entrance of the Dark Town, relieved to see Cube waiting for her. She did not even want to recall the events of the day, let alone reflect on them, for they were far too bewildering — everything that happened in the Dark Town was always bewildering — and the only thing she wanted to focus her drowsy mind on was Cube’s forearm that she was steadied onto.

“It is time to go, ojou-sama,” he said with a calming smile.

Times like these were perhaps the only highlight of the mistress’ day. It was a long route to travel home from the Dark Town, and the quietness of the town at evening was blissfully lulling. Warm glow of sunset slowly turned into dim dusk. The only sounds to be heard were the clacking of hooves against the cobblestones, and Cube’s soft humming as he drove the carriage.

When the two finally arrived home, they found that the master of the house had already retired to his bedroom. Patricia was delighted whenever this was the case, because it meant that she could stay up longer and talk with her butler alone. It must be some sort of reward for what she had to endure throughout the day. Standing at the doorway of the back entrance, she watched Cube usher the horses into the stables; her impatience resembled an amorous wife desperate for her husband to finish his work.

“It is April, is it not?” said Cube, suddenly.

Patricia smiled. “Yes, it is.”

“Then that means it is soon your birthday, ojou-sama.”

“I’m glad you remember, Cube.”

The conversation paused as the butler locked the back door behind him, putting on his culinary gloves to prepare late-night dinner.

“Ah, it’s such a shame that I’m not allowed to give you gifts for your birthday,” he said, meditatively. “It’s not that I don’t wish to, of course. It is not proper for someone of my class to make any moves outside of my position.”

“It’s no trouble,” said Patricia. She had already guessed so. “You wishing me a happy birthday is already enough.”

Cube smiled. “This danna-sama... Danna-sama never buys you birthday gifts, ojou-sama. I just want you to know that it makes me incredibly sad every year.”

Patricia disliked talking about something that made her sad. She didn’t want to spend time thinking about why Papa never donned his only daughter any presents at all, despite all her fair wages from working as a maid going towards the household. Christina, and even Marie, always received the best gifts their parents could afford.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that,” said Cube.

The mistress also disliked sympathy. “No, it’s fine. It doesn’t bother me.”

Her servant stopped cooking dinner and turned towards her. He was frowning. “You’re strange, ojou-sama.”

“What do you mean?” she said, taken aback.

“You...” He broke off pensively, then turned back around as if he did not want to show his face. It was strange. After a few minutes, he finally said, “Ojou-sama went to the Demon World again, did you not?”

Patricia relaxed a little. “Yes. How did you know?”

“I can tell when someone has become more demonised. That world is very dangerous, even more so than the Dark Town, especially for a human. Many soldiers and greedy merchants have fallen to their deaths venturing there. You must try to avoid going.”

For the first time ever, the girl noticed that what he said sounded more like pleasantry fussing of a distant butler than genuine concern. It was exasperating, especially when she noticed that he was looking intently, not at her face, but rather somewhere on her body.

“I can go wherever I want,” she retorted. She did not want to mention the eerie urge that forced her to go against her true will. Maybe the Devil really had possessed her.

The atmosphere was uncomfortable afterwards, and they ate dinner together in silence. This was not the quiet evening Patricia had longed for; she did not understand why her image of Cube abruptly changed for the worse.


End file.
